The Library

Lilith

T he last few weeks have been a whirlwind of passion, love, and raw intensity—every moment with Sebastian pulling me deeper into this world we’ve built together. Everything feels perfect now. More than perfect. We’re married, and I’m no longer just —I’m Mrs. Sebastian Ashford. The thought of it alone makes my heart race with a thrill that hasn’t dulled since the day we said our vows.

But that night, after he fucked me in the church, when he came home after getting that tattoo, everything shifted. He walked in, his eyes dark and hungry, and the second he lifted his shirt, revealing the fresh ink on his stomach, I felt something powerful stir inside me. There, etched into his skin, was an image of me—on my knees, wrists tied in front of me, tears running down my face. And now, a rosary added to my hands, making it look almost…holy. Sacred.

My breath hitched as I stared at the tattoo, a mix of pride and possession flooding through me. He had marked himself with me. Claimed me in the most permanent way possible. And I felt proud. Proud to have earned a permanent place on his skin, but also a permanent place in his life, in his soul.

The realization hit me hard: every time I’m on my knees, sucking his cock, I’ll be staring at that image of myself, tattooed on him, staring back at me like a desperate whore. It’s twisted, and yet it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Every time I look at him now, I’ll be reminded of who I am—his. Completely and utterly his.

And every time he looks at that tattoo, he’ll know that no one else can ever have me the way he does. I’m etched into him, body and soul, and there’s no turning back.

Sebastian’s lips curled into that familiar, dark smile as he watched me process it all. “Do you like it, darling?” he asked, his voice low and rough, filled with that possessive edge I’ve grown to crave.

I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from the ink. “I love it,” I whispered, my voice breathless. “I love that you did this for me. For us.”

He pulled me close then, his hand wrapping around my throat, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me of my place. His. Always his. “You’ve earned this, . You’re a part of me in every way that matters. Soon you’ll be mine in name too.”

The weight of those words settled over me, wrapping me in a warmth that was equal parts love and possessive obsession. I leaned into his touch, the fire between us burning hotter with every second. This is who we are—twisted, dark, and bound to each other in ways that no one else could ever understand.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We didn’t go the traditional route when we got married—of course, we didn’t. How could we? Our lives, our love, they don’t follow anyone’s rules but our own. Especially after what he did to me in that church after we got engaged. So, we eloped in the most fitting place: the Library. The place where all of this began. It felt right, standing there among the towering shelves of books, the air thick with history, with words that once meant everything to me but now seem like shadows compared to the reality I’m living.

Ty and Anna were there, standing by our side as witnesses. Anna cried, of course. Tears ran down her cheeks as she clutched a tissue, her emotions bubbling over at the sight of us exchanging vows. Ty, on the other hand, pretended not to give a shit. He stood there with his usual cocky grin, rolling his eyes every time Anna dabbed at her tears. But I caught it—the brief flash of something softer when he looked at her, the way his hand tightened around hers during the vows.

“Jesus, it’s like a goddamn soap opera,” Ty muttered under his breath when Anna’s sniffles got louder. But his fingers never left hers, and for all his jokes and tough guy act, there was something undeniable in the way he held her close. Ty might be the joker, always full of sharp comments and inappropriate laughter, but when it came to Anna, he was just as fierce as Sebastian was with me.

They’re so different, yet so alike in their secrecy, both of them holding back parts of themselves from the world. Ty hides his darkness behind his grin, just like Sebastian cloaks his under that calm, dangerous exterior. But there’s no hiding it from the ones who know them best.

Sebastian and I exchanged no frills, no flowery speeches—just raw promises to one another. Promises sealed with blood, sealed with everything we are. No priest, no audience, just us standing with a gray sky outside, with the air thick and charged like a storm ready to break. Ty snickered when Sebastian cut his palm to seal our vows in blood, muttering something about how he’s seen this movie before. But even he shut up when Sebastian locked eyes with me, that intensity burning between us.

The ceremony was brief, intense, and perfect in its simplicity. Ty, of course, couldn’t resist throwing in a comment as soon as we kissed.

“Alright, lovebirds. Let’s get this show on the road. Blood, vows, and now the fucking apocalypse, right?” he smirked, slapping Sebastian on the back as if we hadn’t just sealed our fates forever.

“Shut the fuck up, Ty,” Sebastian growled, but there was a rare smile tugging at his lips. Even he couldn’t help but laugh when Ty threw an arm around Anna, who was still sniffling quietly, and whispered loudly, “You’re next, babe. Let’s make it extra bloody.”

That’s Ty—always the chaos, always the humor, but underneath it all, fiercely loyal. And as much as he teased and joked, he was there, standing beside us, because he understood what this meant.

But there was one moment during our wedding that stood out above the rest.

As I slipped the blood stone band onto Sebastian’s finger, I saw the recognition flicker in his eyes. The weight of it wasn’t lost on him—he knew exactly what it meant. I’d spent weeks planning, making sure the ring carried the same meaning as the one he’d given me. It wasn’t just a wedding ring—it was a blood oath, a promise sealed in the very essence of who we are. I had given him my blood, bound him to me just as he had bound me to him.

His lips curled into a slow, dark smile as he looked down at the ring, then back at me, his mismatched eyes blazing with understanding. No words were needed. We both knew what this symbolized. It wasn’t just love. It was ownership. It was forever. In this life and in death, whenever that cruel day finally comes to rip us apart.

When we exchanged rings, I felt a sense of completeness that I hadn’t expected. The solid blood stone band, his ring, made from my own blood, was a reflection of the same dark intensity that tied us together. We had always been bound, in more ways than one, but this was different. This was permanent. And as I watched him slide the ring onto his finger, I knew that no amount of blood, danger, or chaos could ever tear us apart.

After the ceremony, we returned to our house—our home now, filled with memories, lust, and the unmistakable energy that only Sebastian could create. I was still in my white dress, a simple thing, more symbolic than anything else. And Sebastian? He looked as dark and dangerous as ever in his black suit, the sharp lines accentuating every muscle, the fabric so perfectly tailored to him it made my breath hitch.

But it wasn’t just the suit that captured my attention. His eyes—those intense, mismatched eyes—pulled me in deeper. I’ve always been mesmerized by them, by the way they seem to see into every part of me. The green in his left eye was vibrant, brighter than I’d ever seen it, and his right eye, with that haunting line of brown splitting the green, had an intensity that made my breath catch. He looked more dangerous and more beautiful than ever, the love in his gaze clashing with the darkness that always lurked just beneath the surface.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, handing me a glass of wine. The deep red liquid swirled in the glass, rich and heady, and I took it from him with a smile, my white dress flowing around my feet like liquid silk. He looked me up and down, his gaze intense, devouring me, and I knew what was coming. But first… he clicked a button on his phone, and soft music filled the room. “I Found” by Amber Run.

My heart clenched, the emotion swirling around me as Sebastian pulled me into his arms, his hands firm on my waist. We swayed to the music, the world outside falling away. It was just him and me, and for the first time in so long, I felt like everything was going to be okay. His body pressed against mine, the warmth of him seeping through my skin, his love wrapping around me like a cocoon.

We shared our first dance as husband and wife, and for a fleeting moment, I felt like I was living in a dream—a perfect, dangerous, beautiful dream. The rhythm of the music, the closeness of our bodies, the way he held me—everything felt surreal, like a memory unfolding in slow motion. His hand slid down my back, possessive and tender all at once, and I knew this was what forever with him would feel like. Uncompromising. Fierce. Ours.

But as always with Sebastian, the tenderness didn’t last long. The second the song ended, the look in his eyes shifted from soft to dark, from love to lust. In one swift movement, he had me pressed against the wall, his lips crashing against mine. His hands tore at the delicate fabric of my dress, ripping it away as if it was the one thing standing between us and the wild, primal connection we always fell back into.

“I’ve waited long enough,” he growled against my skin, his breath hot as he kissed down the length of my neck. “Now I’m going to fuck my wife like the whore she is.”

I moaned, my body responding instantly, melting under his touch as he fucked me right there, on the floor of our home, surrounded by everything we’d built. And just like that, I was his again—claimed in every way imaginable, my body screaming for more as he pushed me to my limits, dragging me into the dark abyss of pleasure only he could create. He didn’t hold back. He never does. His hands on my body, his lips on mine—it was everything. It was love and ownership, the perfect mix of desire and domination.

The night blurred in a haze of passion and lust. We didn’t make love like newlyweds; we consumed each other, leaving no part untouched. Sebastian’s need to mark me, to claim me completely, was evident in every touch, every thrust, every word whispered against my skin. He was mine, and I was his. Completely.

The days that followed were filled with more of the same. Passion, intensity, and love that felt almost too big to contain. I tried to go back to class, but it was impossible to focus. My mind was always on Sebastian. Even when he wasn’t physically with me, I could feel him everywhere. I could still feel the weight of his ring on my finger, a constant reminder of the vows we’d made. But it wasn’t just the ring that weighed on me—it was everything that came with it. The life we now shared, the secrets that still lingered in the air, the darkness that surrounded him, and by extension, me.

Anna and I tried to keep things normal. We went shopping, had coffee, and spent afternoons at the spa, pretending like everything was just fine. But there was always that undercurrent of something more—something unspoken. Ty and Sebastian were always vague in their texts, never giving us more than we needed to know. Anna, for her part, seemed to be adjusting better than I was. But I knew she was worried too. She didn’t say it outright, but I could see it in the way her eyes flicked to her phone every few minutes, waiting for a message from Ty.

It was during one of those spa trips with Anna that I saw it again—the motorcycle. The same black bike I’d seen before, the one that always seemed to show up wherever I was. I’d noticed it more and more lately. At the coffee shop, outside the library, even when I was on campus. I didn’t think much of it at first, chalking it up to coincidence. But now… now it felt like something more. Like it was following me.

I hadn’t told Sebastian about it. Part of me didn’t want to bother him with something that might be nothing, especially when he was dealing with so much already. But the more I saw it, the harder it became to ignore. There was a pattern, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that whoever was riding that motorcycle was watching me.

Sebastian had always told me I was safe. That no one could touch me as long as I was his. But seeing that bike, over and over again, made me question how safe I really was. It made me question what kind of world I’d stepped into by marrying him. And more than that, it made me question what dangers lurked in the shadows, waiting to claim me when Sebastian wasn’t there.

The weight of it all was starting to settle in. The reality of being Mrs. Sebastian Ashford wasn’t just about love and lust—it was about danger, secrets, and the ever-present threat of the unknown. And as much as I tried to focus on my writing, to pour myself into my work and my dreams of becoming an author, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of my mind. That feeling that something was coming. Something I wasn’t prepared for.